


Eyeliner and Snakebites

by duskomybloom



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), dan and phil
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, POV First Person, Punk Dan, Relationship(s), Romance, Smut, not going all the way, punk edits irl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duskomybloom/pseuds/duskomybloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1st person pov - An unnamed girl (imagine her as yourself if you like) has her own apartment in London. She's been dating Dan for a couple months now, but the two haven't gone very far. What will happen when she sees him in full punk getup? Set after the filming of Phil’s "Punk Edits IRL" video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyeliner and Snakebites

**Author's Note:**

> Set in first person (so you can imagine her as yourself if you prefer). The girl is really innocent and it's implied that she hasn't done this kind of stuff. It takes a little bit to build up so it's kind of long but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

When Dan had told me of Phil’s plan for a new video, I had already ascertained that I was in for a rough go of it that night. I knew they were going to do something with eyeliner; guyliner got to me in the worst way possible, in a way that almost nothing could. I was a bit worried for my sanity, for he had informed me that when he came back to my apartment to visit afterward, he wanted me to see the full ensemble; they were dressing up as punks to amuse fans.

            If I was any normal person, I would have been nonchalant about the whole thing. Maybe a little excited for him, or amused… not like I had a guyliner kink (this thought made me stare down at the floor guiltily as I waited for him in my living room, unable to hold my coffee cup any longer from the increased shaking in my fingers as the inevitable meeting drew nearer). Instead, I was dreading it, for the only thoughts that were going to cross my mind when he got here would undoubtedly make my mother ashamed if she knew. They were beginning to cross my mind already, though since I hadn’t seen him yet, I batted them away. It would be much more difficult to stop them when he was standing in front of me in the flesh; I could almost taste the embarrassment I was going to put myself through.

            My phone lit up from its resting place next to me on the couch, and I jumped, even though it was on silent. _We’re all done with the video. Be over in a bit._

            I grabbed my phone and started to reply to his text; but what would I say? _See you in a bit_ , I typed out, and sent it before I could second guess myself. I breathed out a sigh, and looked through my texts to make sure I hadn’t missed any from my other friends. Another text from Dan flashed across the top of my screen, startling me; I hadn’t expected him to answer back.

            His text made me pause.

            _Get ready ;)_

            Was that a winky face? Was that a _fucking_ winky face?

            He was cheeky, to be sure. But… were winky faces supposed to mean something? We hadn’t been dating for an awfully long time, and we didn’t joke around with those sorts of things, because we just weren’t there yet. I was a bit wishy washy on the subject, never having fully experienced the want to do...  _things_  in a relationship yet. My indecisiveness about the wrong or right of it was probably why he asked from time to time before he tried to further things. He didn’t usually mention it. And… he usually said things to be ironic.

            Yeah… he was probably just joking. _Stop being weird_ , I chided myself. Apparently the mere mention of eyeliner had me prone to overthinking. This was going to be awful.

            I put my phone down again, choosing not to answer, and opened the cross of my legs to get up; a sweet smell wafted up from between them and I closed my legs again, ignoring it and admonishing myself. _God, forgive me_ , I prayed silently as my mind darted between nervousness and excitement, wondering what Dan would look like with eyeliner. I didn’t really know what the rest of the outfit would be; probably just a lot of black, I supposed. _Oh, God_ _._

            I kept my appendages tightly crossed, feet tapping, fingernails digging into my arms, trying to think of something else. _It’s probably going to be pretty normal, anyway_ , I told myself. _How good of a costume could these two British boys come up with?_  I remembered their attempts at being girls in their videos, and giggled a little, easing myself. It was probably going to be a stupid outfit. This was going to be fine, really. There was no reason to freak out. Even if it looked good, it was just eyeliner, for God’s sake. I could handle it.

            Something in me remained flighty, maybe because I knew there was a large possibility I wasn’t going to be able to handle it if it _did_ look good, and then things would just be awkward. But I didn’t know for sure, and when the doorbell rang, I shot off the couch, only just realizing how stiff I was from sitting there for so long in one position trying to convince myself I’d be fine.

            I opened the door to reveal a Dan I had never seen before; but yet, it was a Dan who seemed to fit him strangely well.

            He was, as I had speculated, wearing all black. His arms were covered in the colors of fake tattoo sleeves; his throat housed the tiniest of fake ink at the base, a little dragon form, while circling around his adam’s apple to the back of his neck was a choker of tribal barbed wire designs. His fringe was quite outrageously sprayed in a dark red that eerily seemed to suit him; he had a fake eyebrow piercing, along with black earrings made to look like gages; and, of course, there was the eyeliner, which, even though badly drawn, still made him seem seven more shades of attractive. I had expected this part, though it looked far better than I had hoped. He peered up at me from his lashes, his brown eyes somehow brighter and browner when set off by all the black. But it wasn’t until he smiled and licked his lips in the process that my gaze fell down to his mouth. He had snakebites.

            My breath stopped.

            Dan didn’t notice. “Like it?” he asked me, grinning. “I had a septum piercing earlier, too, but it was making me want to sneeze, and people were staring at me in the lift.” He brushed past me into the apartment; I let him, my brain on full stop. _Close the door. Just close it._ “You’ll see it in the video, anyway,” he called from somewhere behind me, breaking the hold on my mind.

            I shut the door and locked it, panicking. This was exactly what I had feared happening, and it wasn’t even the eyeliner; it was those damn snakebites. Or maybe it was the whole thing that hit me all at once. But I hadn’t imagined anything on his mouth. Why hadn’t I expected piercings? My jeans suddenly felt quite uncomfortable, and the sweet smell hit my nostrils again, intermingling with the scent Dan had brought with him into the apartment. This was already bad, and he’d hardly stepped in.

            I turned to find Dan peeling the tattoo sleeves off of his arms in the kitchen, his head thankfully hidden behind cupboards. Carefully, I made my way to the living room, trying not to stare.

            “Your mug’s out here, if you want anything to drink,” I told him, trying to distract myself.

            “Ah, yeah, thanks!”

            I plucked the mug from the table (one of his Dan and Phil Shop mugs that I'd snagged from their apartment) and reached across the counter to give it to him, hitting the corner and almost dropping it in the process. Dan grabbed it before it fell, giving me a look.

            “You’re a bit shaky. Are you alright?”

            “Oh, yeah, probably just… been drinking coffee too late at night.” I faked a nonchalant laugh and he went back to rummaging through my food storage; I sat down again, at a loss.

            I felt like I was forgetting something, like he expected something from me and I hadn’t done it yet. _Shouldn’t I be asking him something right now? Being a caring girlfriend? Right._

            “How’d it go?” I forced myself. It came out more as one word than a real question. Should I have remarked about his appearance first? Would he know I was avoiding it? What if he caught on? _Shut up_.

            “Pretty good. Well, I mean, I think that fans will like it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He rustled around in the first cupboard and brought out a bag of chips; he went for the second cupboard. I could still only see his torso, and I stared at it, trying to ground myself to reality. “Actually, I think it was a terrible idea. I can already hear the fangirls screaming. It was sort of interesting to try, though, we didn’t look half bad. Say, you don’t happen to have any Squares in here, would you? Or did Phil eat them the last time we were here?”

            Ah, yes, the fangirls. They’d be all over the video, calling the boys hot, taking screenshots, making gifs, writing fanfiction about Phan. Or fanfiction between themselves and the boys, probably. Themselves and Dan.

            Fuck fangirls. Fuck the lot of them.

            Dan’s face appeared in the space between the counter and the cupboards, full of mischief. His expression fell as he saw me, and I realized what my own face must look like, set into the angry frown of fangirl contemplation. It quickly fell to blank, however, when I took in his appearance again.

            “You’ve not said anything about me getting into your crisps.” I could see the snakebites moving with his words, mesmerizing me. Oh… that’s what I’d forgotten. I’d neglected to yell at him about getting into my food. Dan ducked around the countertop, coming closer, and I could feel my eyes popping out of my head as he came into clearer definition. Those eyes. The hair. The black. He bit his lips, toying with the snakebites absently, brow furrowed. “You hate it when I steal your crisps. Is something the matter?”

            “Er… No! No, nothing’s the matter,” I tried, but it came out higher-pitched than I would have liked. Dan raised his eyebrows and sat down beside me on the couch, oblivious to the effect he was having on me. I tried to reel my eyes in from his lips, tried not to think anything too horrible as his tongue flicked out to touch the fake piercings again. I should have been asking him why he was in my cupboards if he knew I wouldn’t like it, but I could feel that lick, straight down in my belly, and a bit lower… oh dear.

            My face was burning as he searched it for what was wrong, my gaze swapping from his eyes to his mouth and to anywhere but his mouth. Suddenly, his face cleared. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, and I instantly wanted to be devoured by the couch cushions. I was unable to contain the tremors in my fingers as he scooted closer.

            “You’re just…” I started, and swallowed. _Don’t say where you’re imagining those piercings right now. Say something else_. “I just… wow,” I stammered. I could hardly talk around my thumping heart. “You’ve got um… you’ve got eyeliner. And I didn’t expect the snakebites.”

            Dan sat back, pleased with himself. “You know I wanted snakebites, when I was a teenager?” he revealed, and I instantly regretted imagining him with these in every day. “I’m sort of glad I didn’t get them. They _are_ fun to play with, though.” He sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, and I gave a tiny gasp; he raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling, and I knew he was starting to catch on, even if he didn’t fully understand yet.

            He inched toward me again, now too close for any sort of platonic bonding we might have been about to share if he hadn’t been wearing the damned outfit, and breathed deeply. “You smell good,” he noted, voice dropping low, and I felt a burning jolt to the abdomen. I’d forgotten to close my legs tighter. Did he know what that smell was? I couldn’t stop blushing; he _had_ to know where the sweet scent was coming from, and this was starting to get embarrassing enough to scar me for life.

            “Er… thanks.” I tried to give a little chuckle, but my throat was dry and the noise died in my windpipe. Dan’s eyes roamed over my face at this close proximity, still vibrant brown from underneath the eyeliner; silence stretched as his eyes dropped a little lower. Then he licked his lips, leaning in toward me to plant a kiss—not on my lips, as I had presumed, but on my neck.

            A fiery explosion erupted from somewhere deep inside my belly; I could feel the snakebites in two little cold pinpricks on my skin, and his fringe tickling my jaw. This was new. My breath hissed out of my mouth as he whispered a pattern from the side of my neck to my ear, and down to the base of my throat, before coming back to his starting point. He paused, as he did often when he was going to try something, to make sure I had a chance to ask him to stop; I stayed silent, chest heaving. He took this as an okay, and kept going.

            We had never tried much more than just a little bit of tongue during a kiss, with him asking profusely if everything was okay afterward, afraid he had traumatized me (I had liked it; perhaps this is when I truly started losing the innocent front that i had maintained so well) . But this time was different, and I knew already that I had screwed myself over; I had given in, and I was falling fast. He repositioned himself, leaning so that I had to draw back sideways into the couch with my head resting on the arm. He loomed over me, his hands on either side of my waist, deep teddy-bear-brown eyes locked on mine. My eyelids fluttered closed, and his mouth made its way back to my neck.

            His tongue grazed my flesh, making my chest tighten and the air come in short static to my lungs. I gave a little involuntary whimper when he drew my skin into his mouth, sucking, probably making indents where the fake piercings were. He moved upward a little, repeating the action on a patch of skin just under my ear, and giving my earlobe a quick nip. His lips ghosted down to the hollow of my throat, capturing my skin in his mouth again, and with this movement, his hips gently lowered to rest on mine. “Fuck,” I breathed out at the contact. I felt Dan raise himself up in order to look at me, surprised.

            “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse.” His eyebrows were raised in amusement. “Are you sure you’re fine with this?”

            “Uh huh,” I murmured, craving his lips back on me. I could see those snakebites, and that meant they weren’t on my skin. “Yeah. Definitely okay. Yep.”

            Dan bit back a grin, and I could see his shoulders shaking as he fought a laugh. “What have I done to you?”

            “Immobilized me,” I muttered, reaching my hands up to press into his back. “Now hurry up and kiss me.”

            I watched his eyes dilate at my request, and he obliged without hesitation, going for my lips this time. I abandoned all hope I had of being a good girl and staying at home base. This was going to be a fun night.

            One of his hands went down to hold me by the waist while he held himself up on the other, and, gingerly, he lowered himself to rest on me a second time. The hand he’d been using to support himself went to my ribs, while my fingers raked across his back in a gesture implying something more suggestive than I had ever initiated. In response, he made a small noise I almost dismissed to imagination, but I couldn’t tell if it was alarm or pleasure; either way, he kissed me with more fervor, abandoning little by little the caution he always used around me. It was nice to experience him this way; our bodies were moving together, my breasts pressed up against his chest, almost impossible to get us closer. The feeling was completely new to me, and, emboldened by the little noise he’d made earlier, I decided to be courageous.

            I started with a little bite on the lip, and I could feel his eyebrows raise quizzically. Generally, I didn’t take chances with things that might weird him out (or weird me out, for that matter), so I hadn’t tried something like this; he didn’t complain. I sucked one of the piercings into my mouth and between my teeth, surprised when it started to come off of his lip.

            Dan broke the kiss. “They’re fake,” he reminded me, out of breath. He moved a hand to take them off.

            I reached out to stop him. “No, don’t,” I persuaded, taking his hand and placing it back on my waist. “They’re fun. I like them.”

            He seemed unable to keep off me for long, and instead of answering back, he went for another kiss, opening his mouth hesitantly. I parted my lips, encouraging him, and ran my fingers up his neck and through his hair, which was chalky with paint. I teased the snakebites with my tongue, careful not to dislodge one again, while he explored me with his own. Making a snap decision to egg him on, I moaned into his mouth.

            He froze at the unmistakably sexual noise, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out if all this was okay or not. Taking advantage of his momentary stillness, I tipped my head forward to find his neck tattoos with my tongue before he knew what I was doing.

            He jerked, giving a squeal of protest, and I fell back, giggling. “I forgot about your neck.”

            “It’s sensitive!” he complained in mock offense, but his eyes were twinkling behind the guyliner, and his mouth was still set in a half-smirk. Then he seemed to realize something, and his face fell to alarm instead of joviality.

            “Sorry, I’ll stay away from it,” I promised, but in the pause, he was already hoisting himself off of me. I grabbed his arm. This had better not be over yet. I was not planning for this to be anywhere near over yet.

            “And where do you think _you’re_ going?” I demanded indignantly. He stayed halfway on me, his face apologetic and flustered.

            “I’m figuring it’s just time to… um… water,” he mumbled, and in a second, he was off of me, stumbling back to the kitchen. I noted with pleasure that he was slightly off balance. He probably figured he had better stop now, that I was out of my comfort zone, though personally, I thought I was conveying my enjoyment rather well. He seemed always like he wanted to refrain from spoiling me and my wishes. Hmm… maybe I could sway him otherwise. Or maybe… maybe we could move this elsewhere.

            I darted off the couch and headed for the hallway as soon as his head disappeared behind the kitchen cabinets. Turning at my room, I noted that the window was still open from earlier when I had decided to let the daylight in, only now, it was showing the dusky sky and London streets below. This needed some mood lighting. I reached around for my bedside lamp, pleased when it switched on and illuminated the room in a dim glow. I wasn’t sure if this counted, but this was good enough.

            I ducked behind the door just as I heard Dan calling my name from the kitchen. “Where have you got off to?” he sounded stumped, and I repressed a laugh.

            “Dan! Come look at the city from my room!” I heard him setting his glass down on the counter and padding through the hall; when he emerged, I could make out enough detail to see that his face was still flushed and that he was, clearly, a bit unnerved. It excited me. Now, instead of him worrying about my innocence all the time, I was the one catching _him_ off guard. The power was exhilarating.

            As he paused just inside the doorway, confused at the empty room, I took my chance. I stepped lightly behind where he stood and snaked my arms through his, resting my fingers on his chest. He started, then relaxed into my touch.

            I rose to my tiptoes and brushed my lips to the top of his shoulder, careful not to get too close to his neck. He shivered, but didn’t move. I slid myself around to face him, my back to the bed so I could start to pull him toward it if I wanted; even if I wasn’t sure what was alright with me at this point, I was feeling daring, and just the option excited me.

            His eyes were wide, surveying me under his red fringe, trying to anticipate my next move. Before I could reach for his lips again, however, he cleared his throat.

            “So… um… it is a nice view, then, isn’t it?”

            I pursed my lips. “Yep. Sure is.” I gazed at his appearance, appreciating it again in the little light provided by my lamp; the ever-darkening sky wasn’t helping much as the night grew later. My eyes rested on the snakebites again. “You’re a better one.”

            He was trying not to burst out laughing again. “Was that a pickup line?” I nodded, giggling. “I’ve never heard the likes of that from you,” he reasoned, quirking an eyebrow, eyes dancing. “You must be in a mood.”

            To confirm this, and to lead us back in the direction I had wanted to go on the couch, I stepped in closer, brushing our noses, inviting him in. If his guard was going to go down, I was going to have to leave it to him, at least a little bit. My fingers slipped under his shirt and up his spine, and he shivered, breaking his resolve and finally letting our lips connect once again. My mouth opened with ease, and he accepted the invitation, letting me work his shirt up toward his shoulders. I tipped backward, holding tight to the exposed part of his back, and landed on the bed with him heavy on top of me.

            “Sorry,” he gasped, before the snogging began anew. We were making out on my bed, and I couldn’t have been more electrified by the rush; maybe it was the same thrill he felt, as well, that made him keep going despite his doubts about how much I wanted this.

            I was just beginning to roll my tongue against the snakebites again he placed his mouth at my neck again, sucking hard on my skin, more passionate and driven than the last setting; it stung somewhere in my abdomen and sent burning rivers through my body. I felt his hands wander down my body a few times, and snap back up to my waist or my back when he remembered to check himself.

            Well, this had to be remedied.

            So I did the only thing I could think of to get his brain going in the right direction; I snuck a hand down his torso and under the waistband of his skinny jeans, brushing the bulge in his underwear.

            Dan made a strangled noise somewhere between a squeak and a surprised yelp and scrambled off me; the momentum sent him rolling off balance, and I heard him land with a thud as he fell completely off the bed. I sat up, startled, to find him lying face down on the floor in his skinny jeans; he leapt up quickly, his face beet red, his expression comical, and straightened his shirt over himself.

            “I… what? What?” he said wildly, trying to run his fingers through his hair and getting them caught in the paint. His chest was heaving, his eyes unable to look at anything but my smug face. “No, no no. Nonono.” He gestured at me meaninglessly, gaping, as though he wouldn’t have believed it of me, and I stood up to wrap my arms around his neck again, itching for contact.

            “Have I rendered you speechless, Mr. Howell?” I asked coyly, fingering the tiny dragon tattoo between his chest and his throat. He swallowed hard, then sighed into my mouth as I brought my face to his and parted his studded lips. I could feel him relaxing; he wanted this just as badly as I did. Yet, he pulled us apart again before the embrace could get much deeper.

            “No, no. You don’t want this, though. You said—”

            “Yeah,” I interrupted. “And now maybe I do want it.”

            Dan shook his head. “You—you’ll regret it in the morning,” he stuttered, unsure.

            I frowned. “And what if I don’t?”

            Dan was compromised; I had blindsided him by every move I’d made in the last ten minutes, catching him unawares, and he had no idea what to do with me now that our desires were suddenly in alignment. “I don’t understand. You’ve never been like this before. I don’t… what if…what if…”

            “ _Dan._ ” I reached up to turn his face, making him look me in the eyes and see what I felt. “I’m not going to be less innocent if you touch me. I’m not going to change. I won’t be any different. You’re not ruining me.” He bit his lip, contemplating, his eyes dark and full of stars. I whispered into his ear. “I _want_ you, Dan.”

            I pressed my lips to his neck, and this time, he didn’t resist. I sucked on it, just as he had mine, and suddenly he was lying me down on the bed again, on top of me, desperately feeling. He kissed my lips in earnest, and our tongues entwined together, our hunger renewed at the prospect of going further. I wasted no time in tugging his shirt up again, and he allowed me to pull it over his head and toss it to the side of the room. His hands worked up my ribs, pulling my blouse along with them, and soon that, too, was flying down to join his shirt. His fingers shook slightly as they brushed my breasts, still mostly concealed by my bra, and I scratched patterns into his back, my own hands heading lower.

            “Mmm!” He protested into my mouth and broke the kiss when I fumbled with the buttons on his skinny jeans.

            “What is it now?” I asked, annoyed. If he kept this up, I was going to _cut_ his jeans off of him.

            “Wait,” he said, and paused, thinking. “I… want to do something for you instead. Just so we can start slow,” he added hastily when he saw the look on my face.

            “Dan Howell, if this has anything to do with putting more clothes on—”

            “Nope,” he cut me off, grinning. “It doesn’t. And it might be better, actually.”

            “Like what?” I said suspiciously.

            “It involves less clothes, if that makes you any happier.”

            That shut me up.

            He wiggled down so that he could access my jeans better; then he seemed to think better of it, moving lower. What was he doing? He pressed his face against my abdomen, and after a moment, I felt something release as he unclasped the button of my jeans… with his mouth.

            He grinned up at me darkly, and my thoughts went exactly where he wanted them to go: that had to be one talented tongue.

            _Oh_.

            Dan gripped my zipper in his teeth, pulling it down slowly, and my heartbeat sped up to an intense, continual shattering of my chest as I realized where this was going. I helped him slide my tight pants over my legs and kicked them off, discarding them to the floor next to where Dan’s feet were dangling. Now, all that stood between us were my undergarments, something Dan had probably resigned not to lay eyes on for years.

            “Well then,” he murmured, and my eyes widened as his voice lowered a dangerous octave. I shuddered. This wasn’t cynical, sarcastic, sometimes-sweet Dan anymore; this was Dan with eyeliner and with barbed wire patterns around his neck, this was Dan with snakebites and deep red hair, this was Dan that was taking me down the road to hell and loving every bit of it.

            Dan kissed a slow, agonizing trail down my ribs and my stomach, ending with a flutter of his tongue across my hip bones before he sunk down below; every kiss was punctuated by a light scraping from the snakebites. He rested his face close my panties, inhaling deeply, and I started to get dizzy from anticipation and lack of oxygen.

            “Mmm. So that’s what that is.” My face grew hot with embarrassment as I realized he was talking about the wetness between my legs, but the intimate detail seemed to stir him on. “Mmm.” The hum against my panties sent a vibration through me that didn’t have much to do with being nervous anymore, and I tried to keep myself still, fighting the sudden urge to raise my hips to meet him.

            Dan ran his hands over the outsides of my thighs, while his mouth went down to my knee, taking a journey up the inside of my leg, and repeating on the other side, gently prying my legs apart as he did so. He raised himself up a little and searched my face for a good moment, making sure I had no resignations, before he hooked a finger in my underwear and started to pull downward.

            If the me from half an hour ago thought this would be happening, I probably would have bolted from the apartment in fear and escaped to some coffee shop to avoid the unknowns of these endeavors. But now, that fear had been banished somewhere far away, leaving me to accept my fate with a pumping heart.

            We were doing this. We were _actually_ doing this.

            He still surveyed my reactions as he pulled my panties off of me with slightly trembling hands, though the wolfish demeanor didn’t leave his expression, his eyes dilated nearly as far as they could be. Tendrils of energy prickled through my thighs where his lips had been, and my mind fogged as he positioned his head at the ready, his hands holding my hips. I could feel his hot breath rustling the hairs there.

            For a moment in time, we simply inhaled, exhaled. Then he placed an open mouth kiss against my sweet spot, and I was once again on fire.

            Not only could I feel his lips and his tongue in aching definition as he moved them against me, but I could feel the snakebites, too, as they grazed my entrance. I was unable to keep myself still, my legs moving up to cradle him between them.

            As he continued, the movement causing a wet friction I didn’t know could exist, I released a moan and tangled my fingers in his hair, not allowing him to leave, needing to hold onto something to keep myself from writhing. He growled, adding to the sensation between my legs and making heat surge everywhere. His tongue swirled, spreading my folds apart. When he slid his tongue into my core and curled it upward, my back arched, and I lost track of the noises I was making, letting him take control over my entire being.

            I couldn’t concentrate on how long I’d been experiencing this sweet torture, but after a time, something began to build deep in the pit of my stomach, like the feeling at the top of a rollercoaster just before a drop, or what a stove pot feels when it’s threatening to boil over. I wrenched his hair tightly as he worked my spot over and over, wondering too late if that had hurt him, not fully able to consider it further.

            “Dan,” I gasped. “I’m… I’m…”

            He growled deeply again, and I got the message: _go ahead_.

            The roller coaster dropped, the pot boiled over, and he unhinged me.

            The rush gathered in my stomach and spread out from there. Up my body, bringing blood to my face and a cry from my mouth; down through my thighs, making my toes curl. He kept on, sending wave after wave of tingling ecstasy coursing through every vein, pure, white hot bliss taking over my brain. Finally, the flow ebbed, and I lay back on the pillow, letting my limbs fall, coming down.       

            Dan withdrew, giving my core a last kiss before crawling up beside me and rolling onto his back, panting from his task. When I turned my head, I found him staring at me, still smiling, his lips red, patches of deep color on his cheeks. I was unable to do anything but stare back, and he gave me a lingering kiss on the lips, giving me a taste of my own salty-sweetness, before resting our foreheads together.

            “Was that okay?” he asked me in a whisper.

            I tried to laugh, my voice sounding breathy and exhausted. “ _Okay_? Dan. That was… more than I… could have asked.”

            He smiled, cute Dan back, his more devious twin self gone. His hair stuck out it all directions from where I’d been holding on to it. “We’ll save the rest for a different day then, shall we?” He looked up at the ceiling. “Truth be told, I didn’t have any protection with me. That… might be why I didn’t let you do much. I didn’t really expect you to be so eager.”

            I blinked; then I giggled at the absurdity of the situation, what we were talking about, what we had just done. After a moment he joined in, and we wrapped our arms around each other happily.

            We fell asleep later after we had pulled the duvet around ourselves, Dan cradling my back with an arm around my waist, his face softly buried in my hair. I slept better than I had in years.

            The next morning, just after dawn, Dan got up quietly and left a note, knowing he should leave early so that perhaps his flat mate and best friend didn’t have too many questions when he arrived. Then maybe he could get the damned tattoos off, too. He pulled out his phone on the way back to his flat and noted that he had a couple of missed calls from Phil; they’d told each other to call if they were going to be staying out late or anything of the sort. Dan might have forgotten to inform him in the heat of last night… _oops_. He put his phone away with chagrin and charged up the stairs to his front door.

            He tried to open the door quietly; Phil would undoubtedly be asleep, and would want to check on him if he heard anything. Dan tiptoed to the bathroom to begin the cleansing of his punk self.

            “Dan?”

            Dan cringed and turned to see his flat mate in the hall, clean, black hair rumpled from sleep. He saw Phil’s eyes sweep over the different features of his punk appearance; the red fringe permanently stuck out in awkward angles, the smudged eyeliner, the very wrinkled shirt.

            Phil’s expression slowly morphed from a stern, worried look into a knowing smirk. “Nice tattoos, still, Dan. I see she enjoyed them.”

            “Shut up,” was all Dan could think of to say before he scurried into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving Phil outside laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I wrote this for a friend to see if I could actually write smut or not. Let me know if it was any good?


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